


First Do No Harm

by wickedrum



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Emetophilia, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, mentions of various pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4763978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set: Canon divergence ignoring the last scene of HaCF. Joe lost everything, including his friend Gordon with that last phone call and without him, Bondham does not trust Joe enough to give him any venture capital. Debbie finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peripheries

Disclaimers: Unfortunately I don't have a Lee Pace. Not the original, and not any of his characters. Written for enjoyment only.  
Pairing: eventual Debbie/Joe.

Chapter 1: Peripheries 

Debbie sped up her steps as she left the derelict building in a run down area of Mesquite, Dallas where her brother resided. She didn’t like walking there on her own when the sun was just about to go down, long shadows already dimming her path in front of the apartment block and she didn’t like leaving her car in the round the corner parking lot either where she could not keep an eye on it, especially as her new Honda didn’t quite belong in the scenery here. But the woman of Puerto Rican origins would come unquestioningly at least once a months to check up on her alcoholic brother and she would’ve even if she didn’t promise her dying mother that she would always take care of him and his three children. Having delivered a bag of groceries after work and having spent time playing a board game with her twin nephews, time has kind of moved on and there was still no sign of her brother coming back to his wife and children, but Debbie decided she could not wait any longer as she would’ve felt too uncomfortable walking outside in the darkness, not to mention having to get up early for her work the next day.

Keeping to the middle of the pavement, away from passing cars and the nooks and crannies of the apartment complex, she mainly kept looking straight ahead, yet a little colour at the periphery of her vision caught her attention and she involuntarily glanced in that direction, catching the sight of a blue stripy shirt in the passing. Debbie automatically averted her eyes back towards her path, but the familiarity of the picture compelled her mind to make her look again. While it wasn’t a particularly unique shirt, the features and stature that went with it proved also familiar, as did the hanging, stray lock of hair that fell into Joe’s eyes as he sat motionless of the bottom of the next flight of stairs to the apartments. It’s not like she could mistake somebody else for her ex boss for over a year-they’ve spent more time together than family members would and his imposing form was hard to confuse with just about the rest of the population of Texas, generally inches shorter than the Northerner. 

She slowed her steps and turned to the apparition-Debbie had always been dying of curiosity to find out what happened to the unconventional man after his mysterious disappearance and eerie last night at Cardiff. Furthermore, unpredictable as he was, walking with the ex CEO would’ve been much preferable under the circumstances than walking alone. “Joe?” She addressed him quite timidly all the same, wary of the peculiarity of the unlikely situation. “What a coincidence. What are you doing here?”

Joe’s brow furrowed as he looked up from his perch, eyes distant and misty. His blank expression almost made Debbie reconsider her approach, but then he acknowledged her, even if his smile was largely absent-minded and his voice seemed feebler than the brunette remembered it when he uttered her name confoundedly. “Debbie. I should ask the same of you,” Joe got himself together quick, avoiding a direct answer, “a pretty little face like yours should be loved up by a boyfriend at this hour.”

Debbie blushed, like often in her interactions with Joe. He wasn’t the easiest and most lenient of bosses, but he always had a way to butter her up into willingly working late or fulfilling problematic assignments. But maybe if she never had a crush on him she would’ve not offered to please him so readily on a long term. “No boyfriends,” she smiled. “Where are you parked? Going downtown?” Debbie went along casually with her original plan to find a walking companion. “I’m just in the video store’s parking lot.”

Joe shook his head, but his attention remained on her, “doing well? How’s work treating you?”

She shrugged, “working at the bank is boring. I miss Cardiff you know,” Debbie admitted, a little weirded out by making small talk with Joe like they never have, but his acknowledging smile was suggestive of a genuine interest. “But sometimes settled and secure is the best, right?” 

“I’m glad. You’re looking beautiful as ever,” her conversation partner complimented her, causing another subtle blush. “You take care of yourself now. All the best Debbie and get yourself one of those boyfriends, yeah, who would fully appreciate what a wonderful human being you are,” he reached one of his hands previously lying limply between his legs to steady himself on the steps as he made to stand, orienting himself in the opposite direction than she motioned her car to be. 

Debbie had her jaw opened like a fish. One of Joe’s methods of convincing people to do as he wishes was offering frequent and often out of place praises, she had been aware of that for a long time, the same way as she had become skilled at figuring out a meaning closer to the truth from his extravagant monologues, but this was a new level of accolades and on top of it he totally looked like he had meant it. She was so gobsmacked that she almost reacted too late when she noticed his ungainly gathering himself, wobbly steps and swaying and he ended up on his knees before Debbie caught him from face-planting himself into the hard concrete. “Hey, hey, hey, Joe!” She panicked, wondering how she was going to support such a weight. “What’s wrong?” She asked, frowning, though in that moment she already realised that everything was. His smell, the stickiness, his hanging head, the dirt marks on his shirt that became noticeable up close, his matted hair, his paleness under the scruff, the grime under his fingernails-far from the prim appearance he habitually kept himself to. And most of all, an overwhelming, radiating heat that was perceptible even through her knitted cardigan. Following her instincts, she pressed a hand to his forehead, “holy shit, you’re burning up!” She exclaimed. 

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, trying to steady himself using her to get himself to his feet, head pounding and his stomach lurching. He knew he shouldn’t have moved, but there was a sliver of self-worth he was still trying to salvage and not make her aware that he belonged amongst the ranks of this neighbourhood’s homeless and slept under those very stairs. 

“Ah, don’t apologise for that,” she held onto his arms, wanting to make sure he didn’t fall over. “You can’t make it home this sick,” she held, “what has happened to you?” Joe exhaled heavily, not in a state to think up excuses and scenarios for deceiving her, his warm breath accentuating the worry in her, “you can’t even drive like this. I can take you home,” she offered, “where do you live?” 

“Don’t concern yourself,” he declined the offer. Not as if he had anywhere to go. “I can call a cab if need be, I’m a grown man, don’t you think?” He tried to wink himself out the predicament. 

Debbie looked him up and down, assessing and still not letting go, “the quicker you get to bed the better,” she advised, “I can wait with you for a cab, but my car is not far, I can just take you, that would be the easiest.”

Joe sighed again. He had to agree. Not as if he had any money to give to the driver and go through with the charade if she was so intent on staying with him. If he went with her he could give an address to be dropped off at and at least he will be in a comfortable seat for a little while in the meantime. “That…if that’s alright with you,” he relented, orienting himself towards the direction she angled him. Moving his head of course wasn’t a good idea again as it accentuated his dizziness and the ache in his stomach but what else could he expect if he regularly tried to eat what other people have thrown out. 

“Lean on me,” Debbie suggested, organising his arm over her shoulders and holding on to his chest to keep him from lurching forward, sure that he needed the help given that he didn’t seem capable of more than simple sentences for the moment, straying far from his oratory master self. Although acting on the female protective instinct, none of this made sense to her, confusion reigning in her mind between listening to her senses and reason. This wasn’t the Joe she knew and not that he ever drank much, but there was no alcohol in his breath so what could’ve gotten him in this state of dishevelment and grubbiness has puzzled her. Seeing Joe Macmillan like this should not be possible. 

Tbc


	2. Bearings

Chapter 2: Bearings

“Where are we going Joe?” It was probably the third time Debbie asked the question of her shivering and off-colour passenger, but so far she had only gotten indistinct answers like ‘turn left’, ‘near the airport’ or ‘go north’. It wasn’t the most useful of conversations, but the secretary decided to be patient with him given the way he alternated between fidgeting uncomfortably and leaning his head against the window, looking completely pale and spent. 

“We need to stop,” Joe panted as an answer this time, a miserable moan leaving his lips afterwards as well, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Why? Are we going the wrong way?” Debbie fretted worriedly. Her instincts would’ve made her wipe away the sweat from his forehead, but she was too busy driving. 

“I don’t want to throw up in your car,” he let her know evenly, not moving for fear of it happening, bar for his fingers tightening round his belly. He hadn’t had a chance to put anything in his stomach all day, but the water he had not long ago drank his fill of at the drinking fountain by the community centre in Mesquite was seeming to want to make a reappearance. 

“Is it urgent?” She glanced at him. There was a lot of traffic and she wasn’t exactly in the right lane for stopping. 

He only moaned as a response, but there couldn’t be much doubt in the nature of the reply because by this time he was leaning forward, taking deep breaths to try to delay the inevitable. “Okay, okay,” Debbie checked her mirrors and decided she was going go for it, other cars needed to get out of her way to allow her to swerve onto the narrow, dry grassy patch that divided the road from a row of car repair and other workshops. She blew a relieved sigh as she managed to get to her desired destination, but had no more time to dwell on it as Joe opened the door while they were still moving a touch and stuck his head out to retch violently. 

Debbie grabbed panicked after him, holding him round his chest, not trusting he was able to hold himself up leaning on the door. As he continued heaving, she readjusted her position, climbed with her knees onto the seat and held as steady as she could, alarmed by his frequently closing eyes and sagging. “Joe. Joe!” She tried to prompt him between bouts of sickness that looked more like stomach acid than anything else, “come on now. Don’t fall out. Lean back a bit. It doesn’t matter if the car gets sicked on.”

Joe panted and groaned as he tried to comply with her directions and ignore how bad his stomach churned still. He had to stop, this was increasingly undignified. He manoeuvred himself slowly back onto his seat and leaned his head on it, exhausted and in pain. The woman’s hands were still on him, though they moved, to his cheek and forehead, testing his temperature again. He did hear her talking to him, urging him to open his eyes and explain what was going on with him, but he couldn’t tell her anything he would’ve wanted her to know anyway. “Can you close the door? No. Wait, I’ll go round and close it.” She left him alone for a moment, presumably to accomplish that action and then he heard the other side slamming shut as she slipped in beside him. “Joe.” She repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Could you say something? Cause if you don’t, I’m taking you to the nearest hospital,” she started the engine. “What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s just food poisoning,” he established, having to get himself together and argue with her intent. He had no insurance for treatments and more importantly, Debbie would find out his standing then and that nobody would trust him enough to give him a job or even an assignment on his own. 

“Just food poisoning can be serious,” the brunette held, “how long have you had it for.”

“Just a couple of days. And I’m feeling better now,” he swallowed down the acrid taste of the foul vomit and looked at her, really looked at her, making eye contact for effect. Now that he had a little moment’s rest after the upheaval of the retching, he did indeed feel his head lighter and his vision clearer. Maybe that was the last time he would be sick. He was only very tired. “Could you take me to the Sheraton near the airport, please?” His clearing mind finally found a plausible and far enough destination for a contented sleep.

“You have a room there?” Debbie eyed him suspiciously. 

“Yeah, yeah,” was all he supplied, closing his eyes once more and twisted to get comfortable in the enclosed space. As he didn’t quite look like a corpse anymore, Debbie let him fall asleep, only giving him worried glances from time to time.

Tbc


	3. Veritas

Chaper 3: Veritas

As his awareness crept to the surface, Joe felt as if his head was swimming. Only his head. The sensation was unpleasant and stomach-turning, so he opened his eyes to find himself in a soft bed, surrounded by light pink covers and pillows, with a poster of a shirtless Billy Idol staring down at him from the wall. with a stray thought, he had to admit that the man looked good, but staring at a rock star seemed exceedingly out of place for the moment and therefore he raised his head and looked around for further clues to his surroundings, feeling the nausea shift deep within him as his world tilted before he managed to focus, making him moan out loud. 

“You’re awake!” Debbie exclaimed a bit too enthusiastic for Joe’s hazy mind’s liking, removing her feet from the top of the bed and putting her book down on it kept open upside down so that she could scoot closer with the woven armchair she was sitting on, “I was afraid I might have to call the paramedics or something-you stayed asleep while I was at work and you didn’t wake for almost 24 hours!”

“You could’ve just woken me,” Joe grumbled. Now that he had spoken to her ex secretary, he had a vague recollection of having been supported by her through some hallways, but he couldn’t remember much more.

“You needed to sleep,” Debbie held good-naturedly, eyes fixed at him, large and sympathetic. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm..naked?” He became aware by now that like the idol on the wall, he was just as shirtless and he had the urge to lift the pink covers and look under to make sure he wasn’t entirely in the nude. 

“Sorry, I had to bring your temperature down.” She didn’t add that she also felt the need to wash him and his clothes too. “And none of my ex boyfriends wore the same size as you, so I had nothing spare to dress you in. You should probably drink and make up for the amount of water you’ve lost,” she reached for the glass that she must’ve previously prepared for him.

Joe gulped the whole contents down in a oner without thinking, so Debbie offered, “more?” And at his nod she left him to disappear somewhere where she could get it and it was only then that his mind was clear enough for the feelings of shame and anxiety to get a hold on him. 

“Why am I here and not at the hotel?” He questioned when she reappeared, trying to salvage appearances.

Debbie shook her head and looked at him sadly as she always had been when his mouth went away with his visions, illusions and delusions of grandeur during meetings. “I…took you there first,” she bit her bottom lip, “you fell asleep in the car so I left you to check with them which room I needed to haul you up to but they said they didn’t have anyone under your name. Did you check in with a different name?” She asked hopefully. Maybe the nightmare he lived wasn’t as deep as she had thought.

“Yes. I use other names sometimes so my father can’t find me so easily,” he alleged. The second part was actually the truth. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you, Debbie, you’re very kind,” he said stiffly, “where are my clothes?” He tried to spot them, looking around. 

“In the dryer,” she frowned apologetically, “sorry. I didn’t get to washing them till after I got home from work today. They’re still very wet.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. He really didn’t have anything on, did he? “But it’s okay,” Debbie continued, “I wouldn’t let you leave in this condition anyway. They wouldn’t take care of you at a hotel. Are you hungry?”

Her ex boss leaned back, assessing the feel and needs of his body. The water was staying down and it seemed to have refreshed him, not made his insides a churning mess like before. The nausea was most likely due to hunger and the pains could’ve been too, so he nodded. Debbie brightened, practically a bounce in her step as she made towards the door, “I got the ingredients for your favourite bread bowl. Will make it light to be easy on your stomach,” she smiled.

Tbc


	4. Leniency

Chapter 4: Leniency

With an emptied plate of what was previously laden with a pasta salad in one hand and the remote control in the other, Joe stared at the television screen without actually seeing the adverts that were on. Taking advantage of Debbie’s hospitality had been necessary for a few days and pretty much a lifeline if he would’ve wanted to admit, and as long as he was doing it while giving her the impression that he did have a fallback position, it was just about acceptable to fit in with his shaky ego. Not that he had much of that at all these days, the wretchedness of depression and the deep pit of hurt, betrayal and hopelessness took care of that, leaving him in a state of merciful numbness and with sluggishness in his thought processes. But enough. His decision was to savour the comforts that a clean apartment, comfy cushions, reasonably stocked fridge and safe environment could give him for the day, for as long as possible before Debbie got home. He knew her usual schedule by now, he could slip out at the right time. 

Only problem with that was that he didn’t factor in deviations from her usual daily routine, at least not more than an hour. Debbie should have not arrived yet for quite a long time, nevertheless she appeared in the doorway while Joe was gathering whatever little belongings he had on him on arrival, those that weren’t in an airport locker where he had stored his possessions as they were. She should’ve not been standing there with bags of more fresh groceries, indirectly annoying him of his despicable standing frustratingly in his face. She should’ve not been standing there scrutinising him and making judgements. “Wow,” Debbie started, hooking the door behind her with a heel and swinging it shut. “You look like Joe Macmillan. Real good, I mean,” she smiled, “are you feeling better then?”

“Yes. I would like to thank you for your hospitality, but I should get back now and catch up on some work.”

“You don’t have a car here,” she reminded him, “let me take you.”

That thing again. Joe resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m meeting up with someone out here first, no worries,” he stepped up to her on his way to the door and planted a kiss on her forehead as a way of saying bye, most likely for good, “you’re the best Debbie.”

The woman shook her head, looking a bit flustered. “Joe. Uhm..who is it? Where are you going?” She garbled, “I…I would like to see you again,” she added as a hazy explanation.

Her ex boss looked at her rather suspiciously, “why would you like to see me.” He uttered slowly and measured. Alright that Debbie had a crush on him once, but what use was it thinking about a relationship when he will end up dumped again, whether it was a man or a woman.

“Because…” Debbie sighed and gave him a rueful face, “look, I can’t do this. I’m not one for pretences so I’m just going to come out and say it. When you were out for a day I was very concerned and I couldn’t find anyone to contact or where you stayed, so I called the only person I could think of to give me some clues and that was Gordon. Of course that phone number wasn’t valid either, but I was told where they have moved to and I could eventually catch him and he kind of passed on this responsibility to me, well, in fact he more like begged me to keep an eye on you. I’m sorry to dump this on you so suddenly, but you were leaving, and I just wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing,” she said hurriedly and looked at him warily for his reaction.

“What does Gordon want,” Joe grumbled, making a dismissive hand gesture, “he had his chance.”

“He was scared you’d do something desperate and can certainly see where he coming from…” She explained. 

Joe ran a hand through his growing mane, “I look like I might do something desperate?” 

Debbie winced, “yes, Joe, you kind of do. And he told me everything, your wife leaving you, Cameron screwing with you so you could get no jobs. So excuse me if I am concerned too.”

So that was it. Another person who could look down on him knowing his history. Grey, conventional, conformist Debbie out of all people. The thought and resulting feeling crushed him, his chest tightening, with a sensation of numbness emanating from there right till the very tips of his fingers. “Please, let me help,” Debbie pleaded, “consider it as recompense for the plentiful of salary raises and bonuses I had been lucky enough to receive at Cardiff during and after your time there.”

“You’re offering me money?” Joe deadpanned, horrified. He was ready to get shot down by lightning on the spot. 

“No, no,” Debbie made a step towards him, seeing his terror. She didn’t like the way he was facing the door. “A listening ear, a friend. I want you to know that I am here for you. I might not be very good at enterprise and visionary innovations, but you can count on me,” she encouraged, “you know that, you’ve seen and experienced that. I don’t quit just because there is a little bit of more work to be done.”

“Count on you,” he repeated monotonously. He had thought for a long time that he could count on Sara. The petite woman had spent the best part of a year cajoling him out of depression and getting him to gather his self-confidence enough to start over and look where that led. She kicked him to the curb when he would’ve most needed her. No, he couldn’t go through that, not again. Time to go.

“Or if you want revenge on Cameron, I can help with that. She’d always behaved with me as if looking down, like she was better than me,” the secretary explained. That’s because she was better than you, Joe thought, but not said. He did not want revenge on Cameron, he did more like not want anything to do with Cameron. It hurt too much to even think about it, so he just shrugged, getting hold of the door handle. 

“Can we meet again? I would love to see you,” Debbie grabbed at last straws when seeing him his intents to leave materialise. Not as if she could physically stop him, or that an act like that would be beneficial. “The coffee shop before the corner where I got the pastries yesterday? I could meet you there on Saturday at 2?” She suggested, shouting after him, “Joe? I know it’s weird for the woman to ask people out on a date, but I will be waiting,” she added, despite not getting a response from his departing form. Of course she didn’t mean it as a date, but whatever had a chance of getting him through the door would have to be the one she tried. How ironic, since she would’ve given anything for him to ask her out on a date while they were working together. 

Tbc


	5. Coppery

Chapter 5: Coppery

Debbie only had a sliver of hope Joe would turn up, but she ordered his coffee the way he liked it anyway and some glazed doughnuts too, a similar kind to that he’d often brought into the office at Cardiff. Joe stood at the other side of the road, leaning to a newspaper stand, having seen her going inside the coffee shop not long before. He wasn’t sure what brought him here, it couldn’t have been the prospect of some grub, surely, but he couldn’t ignore the existence of the possibility either. It had to have been mainly hope that fuelled him, for something to finally work out in his favour, the same hope that he had cursed many times for making him go forward, strive for success and knock down obstacles like a charging bull despite the implausible chances of whatever project. Joe hadn’t felt that spark ignite in his chest for many months now, but it was possible the embers were burning still. Whatever it was, it made him shave and clean himself up in a public toilet and fetch his best fitting blue suit from storage so he could show up looking his best in front of the brunette.

The secretary’s whole face lit up when she saw him and she rose from her seat to hug and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she squeezed his arms with so much enthusiasm that couldn’t be faked. “Here, let’s half my doughnut like you used to help me with my diet. You know I don’t want to eat it all not to get fat,” she sliced it with a quite blunt knife as best as she could. 

“You aren’t fat Debbie, you just have beautiful curves,” Joe wolfed down the offered piece nevertheless, then took a longer time to savour licking the glazing off his fingers.

The Latino waved him off, but her smile betrayed her. He always knew what compliments would make someone feel best. But they weren’t there to concentrate on her. Debbie knew better however than to ask outright how he was or felt, she would never get a straight answer. “Why did you burn the truck?” She blurted out instead. Perhaps not the best tact, but “I’m sorry I’ve just been curious about that for a long time.” Debbie backtracked a little as she didn’t know how it would go down.

Joe’s fingers stopped in mid-air. In hindsight, that arson incident was far from his darkest moment, but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed. Pretences got him nowhere as it became apparent with both Simon and Cameron and telling Sara the truth equally didn’t either, so he may as well tell it the way it was, especially as he could not imagine anyone more harmless than Debbie. “I was angry. For having to settle for mediocrity, for losing Cameron over a necessary business decision…it feels such a long time ago now, it doesn’t really matter.”

“I’m sorry for saying this, but that little bitch never had any frame of reference for the real world. She should’ve not punished you for what had to be done for the good of everyone at Cardiff and she shouldn’t have taken all our workers. And she certainly shouldn’t have used you to plant viruses in companies you work for.” She established with a pout. 

Joe shrugged dejectedly, “it looks like you knew her better than I did.”

Debbie put a hand on his, “all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be punished for her deeds and most importantly, you shouldn’t punish yourself for her actions.”

“Tell that to the world.”

“I saw you Joe. I saw you sitting in your office staring at the walls for hours after Cameron left. I saw you become different, passive, lethargic, losing your will.”

“Was it that obvious?” Joe rolled his eyes at himself for having shown such noticeable weakness in front of his employees. 

“I thought it was just a faze and I was too shy at the time to mention it, but it doesn’t matter, you can still start over,” she heartened, looking at him with expectant, naïve, adoring eyes. 

“I already started over,” he established dismally.

Debbie shook her head, “oh Joe. Have you forgotten how you always used to stand up and fight?” Her look was compassionate and encouraging. There was nothing of Cameron’s cockiness and Sara’s judgemental expectations. “I read once that the trick is to keep breathing, keep going. Like everybody does. I know it’s a bit of a comedown from where you grew up, or what position you held before, but normal people don’t need to build up a company or invent something big to be happy, to feel like they’ve accomplished something. There is such a thing as being too ambitious, it can unfortunately backfire. There is such a thing as trying too hard.”

“What then. What is the point,” he argued.

“My dad couldn’t teach me much,” she started conspirationally, “he had no education, no health, he couldn’t even speak English properly. But he is the man I’ve respected the most in life. Not a respect he earned by force, beatings or instilling fear, it was a certainty in his integrity, that he would do the right thing, not for others to value him, for himself to feel whole. Gordon told me how much you’ve changed, that you wanted to do what was right, so do it. It doesn’t matter what anybody else does or says, you can hold your head up and respect yourself, that’s all that counts.” Debbie sounded like she wanted to empty her soul into his. The same words never worked with her brother, at least not on a long term, but she had to try. The young woman had no idea that right at this moment, what Joe needed was a lifeline, a different outlook, a logic that made sense that at the same time would jolt him out the same vicious circle of thoughts of having no worth and no way of proving he did. 

“Tell me about your dad some more,” Joe leaned forward, closer to her. And to think he had made the mistake to consider her simple.

Tbc


	6. Associative

Chapter 6: Association

It was the third time they met up for their weekly tête-à-tête at the small café when Joe had really started talking and relaying his side of the story. With his natural predilection for mysteriousness over the ordinary and bared down vulnerabilities, strengthened by the experience of having been betrayed based on personal revelations by both Cameron and Sara, Joe finally had to make a conscious decision that it didn’t matter what Debbie knew. If she was going to somehow still use what she had heard against him despite hardly being in a position to do so, then be it. He could not sink much further at any case, and it felt good to unload, curse all those who had wronged him. 

Debbie listened with wide eyes, leaning her chin on her palm, supported by her elbow on the table, ordering round after round of coffee, cakes, doughnuts while the rarely interrupted monologue turned hours long. “It sounds to me like this Sara has too many of her own issues to be in any relationship. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and those can be more dangerous than obvious vipers like Cameron. What moral justification can she have for dumping you twice while her father is manifold more questionable than you are! Of course his no matter how expensive gifts she has the cheek to accept! Double standards and hypocrisy.” Debbie was scandalised on behalf of Joe. “It sounds like you are better off without her, it would’ve all eventually blown up in your face, no matter what. She expected you to make all the changes and her to have the right to remain her perfect self. Relationships don’t work like that.”

Joe sighed, “I was too involved at the time to see that. I did everything she’d asked for and more and I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t enough. It took me months to pull that wedding ring off my finger.”

Debbie nodded understandingly, “divorces are never without pain, no matter what some people claim.”

“How did you become so wise?” Joe jested, “I thought your childhood was happy the way I understand you say it, despite the poverty and neighbourhood you grew up in. And you must be, you should be,” he stressed, “proud of yourself for what you’ve achieved and how much you broke out.”

“I am.” She gave a mild shrug, “there a reason why I avoid relationships and much socialising in general.”

“It hurts?” Joe guessed. “Eventually it will end up hurting, no matter what, is that it?”

Debbie averted her eyes and winced, “it’s just that…I’m not perfect. You need to know that I have issues too that I’m still trying to deal with. I don’t want to dump them on you, it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is this one sided conversation. I’ve been talking like nothing else matters.” 

“Uhm..” Debbie started. She had the ominous feeling that this was a turning point in their relating, the make it or break of it. It wasn’t a subject she willingly talked about, but she knew from his previous retellings that while Sara expected Joe to be open and divulge all his secrets, she had remained secretive herself or alternatively, she did not realise her faults and possibilities for growth herself. Debbie could not be a repeat Sara to do right by Joe so she had no choice but to come forward, “…it was a neighbour. Her wife and my mother were friends and they were at our place a lot. Until one day my father got a rifle, shot him in the leg and told him it will be higher if he once more steps inside a ten foot radius of me,” she bit her lips, “I don’t even know how he found out. I never told anyone…the neighbour dropped charges against my dad and they’ve moved away soon after.”

“It looks like your father was a wonderful man,” Joe sighed. “I wish I could’ve met him.”

“Unfortunately he died too early to make a difference even for my little brother. I am sure he would’ve not ended up an alcoholic if my father was alive, but Maurinho was only ten at the time…”

Joe reached out a hand to place it his fingers on top of hers, “hey. It’s not your fault. None of it is. Your brother will make his own…”

“I’m sorry for having to interrupt my most faithful customers,” the man that usually served them stood by the table, “but we close at 6’clock and it’s ten past.”

“Oh, sorry,” Debbie broke from the intense eye contact she had been sharing with her conversation partner and collected her bag.

“You can’t stop there in the story,” Joe also had trouble surfacing from their connecting. 

“We can continue at my place,” Debbie suggested. She had been hoping for that turn of events all along. 

“Sure,” the tall man agreed without any trouble as they vacated the premises. Her hand that he had grabbed earlier he never let go of.

Tbc


	7. Ointment

Chapter 7: Ointment

“I’m keeping you from your favourite soap,” Joe realised when looking at the clock on Debbie’s bookcase. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, “I’ll watch the reruns,” the brunette settled down beside him on the couch with a refreshing cold glass of wine that felt like a nice change after the caffeine overdose their meeting place triggered. “Where were we?” She smiled self-consciously.

“I was just saying how perfect you are.” He raised a hand to gently pull her hair out of her face and cup her jaw.

Debbie waved him off, “yeah, right.”

“What I mean is that you shouldn’t blame yourself for your brother’s actions and certainly not for the actions of a perv a long time ago. You are beautiful inside out and that isn’t a fault.”

“You are really making me blush now, you should stop it.”

“Is this. Okay then?” He slid closer to cut the distance between them and slowly leaned in to kiss her gently. He wouldn’t push anymore, not in his position and not with a woman who had been molested in the past. 

Debbie’s eyes locked into his once they parted, “more than okay,” she encouraged, smiling. The secretary would’ve wanted to experience the feel of those lips on hers ever since she had laid eyes on him. Her hands reached for him on their own accord, and she leaned to place them on his chest and shoulders, his arms coming round behind her. 

Joe kissed her again, remaining slow and gentle for the time being. As a stray thought, he had no idea how he will pull this off, it wasn’t his preferred or habitual lovemaking, he was more of a rough, quickie guy who also knew how to pleasure a man or a woman with corresponding intensity. But he had to assume those methods might not be very welcomed by someone who had been sexually harassed as a young teen, so his movements remained cautiously exploratory and relied on the tactile feel of his fingertips. His breathing sped and deepened nevertheless as his senses took in her curves and he now dared to venture under her blouse to unclip her bra when encouraged by her investigative fingers that slid between the buttons of his shirt. 

Debbie moved to feel up his jaw with her lips, barely touching, lingering in the sensation, breath tickling his neck. She turned her head to culminate the interchange with another kiss, eager and savouring as she took momentary initiative. Joe was sure he could not mistake the intent and grabbed for the hem of her top in a quickening fashion, then paused a little to appreciate the revealed view. “As I said, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, eyes locking with hers. “And you are so much more than I’ve thought you were.”

She wasn’t listening this time. The brunette pressed the heel of her palms to his chest, moving them up and down, feeling him up. She had the notion to rip his shirt apart in her impatience to make him hers, but her rational mind won and she decided on buttoning him down instead. She probably wasn’t strong enough to make the obstructions pop off anyway. Joe paused in his sliding her up and against himself. Usually this would be the moment he would stop a first time partner. His shirt would stay closed for the time being as normally he could not be bothered with the scar moment most people would normally have at this point. But this time, he let her. First of all, she must’ve seen him bare-chested before when he was sick, it was all for nothing, hiding it away for the nuisance of it. Her fingers slid up on the exposed white marks, taking their feel in and she did ask, “what are these? What happened to you?” She enquired reverently, sympathetic. Not a trace of disgust or pity. Simply kindheartedness emanating from her very being. 

And for the first time, it had never even occurred to him to use one of his stories or make up a new one. It was the raw truth with this woman or nothing, as if he would’ve been compelled. “My mother happened. She was high on drugs on most days, and so she didn’t think that an eight year old child would not manage not sliding off the roof.”

“I’m sorry,” Debbie offered, passion momentarily bridled by the revelation, “was it very serious?” 

“I was in a coma at first and then heavily sedated for quite a while so I don’t remember much from the beginning, but I do remember the years I’ve spent in hospital and various health care settings.”

“Years?” Debbie questioned startled and where her fingers traced the marks previously was followed by her mouth, gentle kisses and little licks with which she reverentially covered her trail. The vulnerability of this man under the publicly presented surface astonished her. But there was an area she was more interested in, she was headed there and that was under the fabric of his suit trousers, where her fingers now slipped under. Her lips would follow them there too.

Tbc


	8. Eventide

Chapter 8: Eventide

“I can’t stay here forever,” Joe said even as he held Debbie close, not feeling like letting her go in the golden, contented afterglow of their lovemaking. 

“Ssssh,” Debbie was trying to delay the inevitable with a peck of his lips and a finger on them after, stroking and mesmerised by the freckles round his mouth.“I like my toyboy waiting for me warming my bed when I get home from work. Kinda got used to it,” she joked. Of course she knew the blissful days would be over soon, but he could maybe at least wait till her heart stopped beating so wildly, fastened more by emotion than their previous, vigorous physical activity.

He cupped her face and kissed her softly, gently coaxing her to lie pliably nestled under his arm. “I went down to get the papers and you know the appliance shop before the traffic lights taking you down onto the highway? They are advertising for sales executives.”

“You want to sell refrigerators.” Debbie raised her head to look into his eyes for confirmation. It wasn’t something she’s expected him to say at any point of his life, low or otherwise. 

“No, not at all, I don’t want to sell those outdated machines. Especially not when there are two other shops within a mile that distribute newer models that look like freshly off the line from Star Trek. No. But the owner see, for some reason he has several dozen disposable cameras on sale by the counter. He must’ve gotten them as an extra with some delivery I assume and he has no idea he’s sitting on a goldmine! Those are already mass produced and sold in Japan and the market is wide open here. Most people can’t afford to buy the real deal, so they will simply get the cheaper alternative for holidays or special occasions. All I have to do is present the option to every soul who wanders through the door and reorder once stocks are depleted. It’s big business, you’ll see. Everything that happens in tech, it tends to happen in the Far East first and then we can simply follow the trend.”

“Okay?” Debbie gave him her approval. It was nice to hear him dream once more and think out the box for a bit, contemplating ideas not strictly computer related. She’s seen his visionary plans at work on more than one occasion and she had no reason to doubt him and even if it didn’t pan out how he’d imagined it would still be a job to fall back on if he could get it. Could not be worse or earn less than his data entry stint. “Are you sure you really want to do this?” She questioned hopefully.

“Darling, if I don’t completely change his main article of trade within three months, I will eat my hat in front of you.”

“What hat?” The brunette giggled at that. “Do you think you can get in the door?”

“The guy knows nothing of the computer business. He will be presented with my college degree and I’ll give you and Gordon as references. Should work ok. He’ll probably won’t bother with long distance calls, he will call you, as an ex co-worker of mine.”

Debbie laughed, “me? That should be interesting…” She froze, hand going to her mouth, “by the way phone calls. I almost forgot to tell you something. You distracted me so quickly when I arrived with your wandering about naked with a bottle of wine in the living room. I got a phone call today at work. It was your father…”

Joe snorted contemptuously, “it took him longer to track me down this time. What did you tell him?”

“He knew you stayed here, there was no use of denying it,” Debbie offered apologetically.

“What does he want?”

Debbie looked at him hopefully, “any chance you would agree to meeting him?”

“No.” Joe said quickly and firmly as an automatic reaction.

The brunette paused, letting him digest the information, a palm slowly stroking his tensing chest and arms in hope of putting a dampener on the tension. “Look, I know you don’t want him to find or see you in your situation, but that already happened, he knows everything. I believe all he wants to do is help.”

“That’s all he ever wants to do. Help. And go about it all in the wrong ways. Providing opportunities his way. In a way that you end up wishing he offered nothing. Toxic. Poison. It all comes with expectations, judgements and exact ways you’re meant to lead your life and concluding you are wrong if you’re not behaving those exact ways, keep the company you’re subscribed. It’s hard to describe, you probably don’t understand.” He dismissed her, anger clouding his senses.

“I understand,” Debbie challenged, “I was listening,” she emphasized, “when you told me about your childhood. There doesn’t have to be physical abuse for it to count. And you certainly were blackmailed into doing things against your will, abused verbally and emotionally and your needs neglected, lied to and restrained and limited you to an extent your illnesses and physical weakness following your accident didn’t justify. He wanted you to be successful above all, but kept you back at the same time, some of it knowingly, some of it unknowingly. That’s what it comes right down to, doesn’t it? Again, cruelty in good intention’s sheep’s clothing. Ignorance. Intellect and proud of it, but not the kind of intelligence that would recognise of when causing emotional harm. Maybe he didn’t think it was important, or that you get over it, if he even thought about it.” Given the spite she’s said it with, it should’ve been obvious she despised the man just as much as he did. “You don’t need to convince me. What I would say is that your father had no idea how to be a good father or even how to relate on a personal level.”

“That’s his excuse? Am I supposed to forgive him for that?” Joe got antsy, and disentangled himself from her. “He would never acknowledge the error in his ways. All he did was right and in my benefit he would say. He does not get how much the atmosphere was suffocating me. Would you want to go meet and greet and honour your jailer and accuser!”

“I’m not asking you to do anything.” The young woman established quickly. He had been talking about leaving earlier, it really wasn’t the time to challenge him with the issue, “I was telling you what happened.” But Joe already sat up, his back to her. “You might want to talk about it. You did in the past,” she tried to appease him. 

“Not now,” the other established. He did mellow though and pushed back to reach an arm for her as she sat up too. Joe did not want to be reminded of the past or what a failure he was, in his father’s eyes or otherwise, so he’d just leaned his head against hers, finding solace in the moment and her usual, silent support.

Tbc


	9. Impost

Chapter 9: Impost

If she would’ve had to be truthful, Debbie would’ve had to admit that she wasn’t giving her work her usual best and was sneaking glances at the clock more often than other times. Joe had mentioned leaving, she had to tell him about his father all the same for the minute possibility that something good will come out of it, and he had done the disappearing act before in the past, so given all that it was quite natural that she would worry about not finding him in her apartment on arrival. Certainly not planning on putting in any overtime, she stole away five minutes early and was mostly relieved to find Joe’s imposing form treading her living space up and down, clearly vexed, “what’s going on?” She dropped her bag by the door, not bothering to hang it in its usual place.

“I’m preparing.” Joe let her know without interrupting his walking back and forth, index finger either on his lips or moving to an inexistent beat that seemingly accompanied a deep thought process.

“Preparing.” Debbie repeated warily, looking over the area, littered with half a dozen various books and publications opened in seemingly random places, from copies of the Newsweek to some worn looking edition of theories of consumer psychology, clearly all from the public library. “I see you’ve been busy. Preparing for what.”

“Little speech.” The tall man provided economically.

“Aha?” The secretary prompted, sitting down and fingering a magazine with Boy George on the cover. Maybe she’ll have some reading material too as a by-product of Joe’s whatever he was doing. 

Joe flashed her his assertive business grin, or as close to it as he got these days, “whole communities suddenly fix their minds upon one object, and go mad in its pursuit; millions of people become simultaneously impressed with one delusion, and run after it, till their attention is caught by some new folly more captivating than the first. All that needs done with a product with such potential is strategic positioning and you’ll get what you want at the same time as the customer getting what they want. It’s the beauty of it with endless possibilities inside. What it is, is the very quintessence of modernization.” 

“And…that is for?” The pitch sounded sophisticated enough, but didn’t have his once present drive and enthusiasm, though Debbie hoped he could maybe add it when the occasion called for it. 

“Both for Liam and Mr. Shusaku, not worked out what bits for each and not all yet,” he gestured dismissively, “but Greenwood, South Carolina is not that far, right? I could easily drive over there. They’re opening a new subsidiary of Fujifilm Manufacturing USA! I could possibly secure some shipments of their disposable cameras quite cheap if we’re one of the first ones to set foot in there.”

“We?” Debbie questioned.

“Well, not we, me in the name of Sunderland& Heart. That’s the appliance shop I’m working at. But of course you can come aboard once the venture is expanded,” he added readily. He liked it most ideally when his personal and professional life came together and of course Debbie would be a great asset on his side.

“You are?” The woman felt the need to underscore. She seemed to have needed to pry the information and the day’s events out of him with pliers, the way he was gone in his own mind palace. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got the job this morning, solidified by selling two damn outdated refrigerators on the spot,” he frowned in a disgusted manner, “and I’ve got two weeks to do it.”

“The job is on probation? Wouldn’t it be better to wait the two weeks then before you engage the company in a different business course they don’t know about yet?” Debbie suggested fearfully. She wasn’t sure if Joe could take another failure.

“The job is not on probation,” he reached for an envelope on the couch, pulled the contents out and tossed them onto the coffee table for her to look at. “Do you have any holidays left you can take short notice? So you can come with me.” He turned sharply to stand expectantly in front of her.

“To South Carolina? I thought you wanted to drive and it would make more sense?” Debbie was getting really confused by all these plans, but she got a little less confused when she looked at the papers on the table: plane tickets to New York for Joe and her both, sender Joe Macmillan Sr, on a date just over two weeks from now. “Oh. That’s great.” That’s what all the hurry would be about. Joe would not want to go there without a standing in the business world to back him up. “What made you change your mind and meet him?” Not that she wasn’t happy that he did, but the rush to get a plan to materialize could backfire. 

“You,” he said simply, “you always give people the benefit of the doubt, a chance to explain themselves. It’s time I heard his version of the story, if he cared to give me one.”

Debbie looked up, breath pausing in her befuddlement. “I can come,” she established for starters. The rest was an amalgam of half thoughts and slivers of feelings that made her anxious. It all felt too important, too much of a make it or break it moment for her taste. Suddenly, her current, boring work conditions seemed appealing. Despite wishing he could be happy with less, she knew that wasn’t Joe, that this plan had to work for him, and as a consequence for her and them to be happy, or for it to even be a ‘them’. So there wasn’t much else for her to do than ask, “do you need any projections or calculations made? Phone calls, gathering information, arrangements for the meeting at Fuji? I can make time for it,” she offered unreservedly, the enthusiasm and dreamy look in his eyes catchy.

Tbc


	10. Uniform

Chapter 10: Uniform

Debbie placed a hand on Joe’s jittery thigh as it bounced up and down the limited leg room that could only be described as cramped for a man of Joe’s size. The airplane passengers sitting in front of them were probably getting annoyed by the frequent bumping Joe gave their seats all throughout the flight, but he didn’t seem to notice, too immersed in thoughts and feelings by the looks of it. He could barely help it, some sort of manifestation of his nerves over the impending family meeting was inevitable, even if he could keep his clenching stomach secret.

“You’re making me tense as well,” Debbie whispered, palm moving up and down his tense thigh. “Should I be nervous about your father?” 

“No,” he glanced at her, giving her half his attention. “He’ll most likely be his charming self, trying to get you on his side, like he did with Cameron. He might even keep back on demoralizing comments for me, though the condescending looks I don’t think I can avoid,” Joe claimed with an internal eye roll.

“You’re not very hopeful about this meeting are you,” the brunette summarized. 

“I don’t even know why I’ve come,” the lost son alleged. It was true as much as his perturbed emotions induced confusion dictated, though in reality he had a number of reasons. There was a small part of him that did hope that there was somehow a bridge possible to be built between him and his father, though that part really wasn’t that large. There was another part of him that couldn’t shake his upbringing-engrained complex, need and compulsion to having to at least make an effort to come up to the old man’s expectations. It was partly this that compelled him into a hurried business scheme again, one he so far managed to fulfill as much as was possible given the tight timescale-getting the job just so he could sell all cameras and convince the desperate, close to bankrupt owner to put his eggs in the different basket of Fuji’s and secured a Dallas exclusive shipment in South Carolina as intended. It was exasperating how he’d always managed to masterplan and dodge himself through the first stages of every one of his schemes just to see it all go up in smoke later. But at least he had something to show up at the moment, something to break the ice with and mellow the older man’s rigid demeanor with, which would help with making a head start in regards to the third motivational factor that made Joe agree to the meeting, an aspect he had trouble with admitting even to himself, but one that nevertheless drove him subconsciously and sometimes reached his awareness in half thoughts: that he could not make it in the world without the privileges he had been used to as a quasi-birthright and if so, he may as well stop going against the tide and take advantage of them. 

“I’ve always wanted to see New York,” Debbie was exited and squeezed his fingers in his lap, with the intention of changing the subject. She didn’t want him back out now, at the last moment. 

“I will show you as much of New York as it fits into the weekend,” he promised. 

“You do realize we were never sent a return ticket,” the woman laughed as they landed. They both had jobs to go back to, but it was nice to dream for a moment. “Your dad wants us to stay.”

“He might have been hoping I didn’t have money for a return ticket,” Joe’s face darkened at remembering how his millionaire father was fully aware of his recent fiascos. And Joe still felt he had to prove him wrong. “Debbie…” He started, “I know I’m not the most ideal boyfriend, person in general or husband material, I don’t have a ring and this isn’t the best time or place, but would you marry me?” He looked at her hopefully, making the same sort of haphazard dash at asking as he had done with Sara. 

And just like Sara, the woman who’s hand he was holding wasn’t clueless to his motivation either, “because you already have a disastrous marriage behind you and you don’t want to feel like you’ve failed indefinitely in that as well in front of your father?” Debbie pitched sadly. It’s unbelievable what a mess this man was and she had to fall in love with this one in particular. 

“Because we could be great together. These last couple of weeks, the way we worked together, accomplished good things. It made me realize how much I love you Debbie Lana Atilano.”

“You do?” She wondered. How could a man with such an electrifying personality love boring, run of the mill her?

Joe reached to tilt her head up to his so he could look into her eyes, want and desperation clouding his vision, “I do. Why did you hide away behind normativity so I couldn’t see you?”

“It’s my way of protecting myself I guess,” she considered, “not that you could’ve seen me, no matter what. You were in love with someone else.” Debbie internally cringed at the memory of the young blonde landing at the company and decimating its workforce from inside out. 

Joe also groaned, internally. Along with some childhood memories, some of what Cameron had done to him likewise ended in the category he would’ve wanted to use brain bleach on. She had him exactly where she wanted him and Sara had called him out on it, rightly. As his ex-wife had pointed out, despite everything, he was not over the coder and he wasn’t sure that he will ever be, but he was also sure he did not want to think about it, or waste any more of his time on the sentiment. “It seems like a different life, so long ago,” he mused. 

Her smile came slow, but her eyed betrayed her. She was thrilled, “I love you too,” Debbie leaned her head on his broad shoulder, imagining the future, endless moments as the present, them finding solace and strength in each other. 

“Is that a yes?” He questioned, not hearing a straight answer.

“Yes,” the young woman squeezed his arm, nearing herself even closer as if that was possible, “it is.” Her contented smile was stifled by his shirt sleeve as she nestled in. 

“Then get ready for the royal treatment,” Joe peered out the small airplane window pointedly, following the sight of a nearby limousine right out on the concrete, not far from where the plane taxied to. 

Debbie took interest in his moving his comfortable pillow body away, her eyes settling on the fancy car, “is that what I think it is?” She probed, looking at him somewhat startled. 

“Has to be. That’s Gerty, my father’s butler standing by the limo.”

“Your father came out to meet us?” The woman was surprised.

“I doubt it. It will just be for us to be taken to the house. I would take advantage of it, the onboard bar is quite handy if we want to drink on that engagement,” he winked at her, “welcome to New York.” Joe smiled, glad he could treat her for a change.

Tbc


	11. Converts

Chapter 11: Conversion

Debbie reached for Joe’s hand during the take-off back to Dallas as well, locking her fingers with his. Flying has always made her nervous in itself, never mind the crazy whirlwind that was their last three days. It wasn’t quite the most conventional tour of New York she had had, bouncing from luxurious style to economical back and forth in the space of seconds. The Victorian House in Saratoga Springs she could only describe as a blend between a fairytale castle and a mansion with Persian rugs the size of her apartment, where their wishes were waited on 24/7 and the vintage Imperial limousine stood at their convenience at any time when Joe took her to places he wanted to show her, some rather unconventional ones, but all certainly free of charge to enjoy, like the seemingly spontaneous dance party spots on Coney Island Boardwalk and those of the hippies they’ve paddled in the water fountain with in Washington Square Park, and very personal highlights from Joe like historic rail-yard remnants he used to play at in East River State Park and some to her rather controversially presented gay cruising areas in Central Park that gave away secrets about her fiancé she was quite surprised to find. She had no opportunity to process any, it was as if the trip was set in fast forward, and that included the relatively short talks the Macmillans shared with each other over breakfast or at night. 

No doubt influenced by an additional person’s presence, father and son remained civil throughout, though Joe did opt to leave his dinner early and take Debbie with him on the second occasion they’ve dined together. Questioning his father’s methods while raising him he never got round to, all was stifled by the revelation that Joe Sr. was given a mere few months to live and thus was desperate in pandering to his son and making that connection they’ve been missing. It defused the situation, but it was all left open as well, and the two of them didn’t have the time to discuss it either. 

Joe stared out the plane window, distracted by thoughts, and it took a few moments before he registered her intent to connect and squeezed her hand back. “I must be heartless,” he concluded, “I don’t feel anything. He is dying, and I don’t feel anything,” he gave himself a mock laugh, “that’s not true. I feel relief that I won’t have to deal with him anymore. Doesn’t that sound evil?”

Debbie shrugged, “I know you’re not evil. Your business methods can be harsh and inconsiderate sometimes…”

“Not anymore,” Joe felt the need to emphasize.

“Yeah, okay. Point is you’re not evil. I’ve seen evil in the neighbourhood I grew up in, and that’s not you.”

“Selfish then,” Joe admitted.

“Who isn’t.” The brunette locked her fingers tighter with his. She had such a handsome man, knowledgeable and careful in bed, no doubt based on his exploratory love life where she now knew he didn’t always play the role of the man. Joe was constantly full of ideas and visions to the extent he could give her the world simply while fantasizing and sunbathing on the small balcony of her apartment where they had to share the sun lounge if they were to fit. Debbie felt overpowering excitement knowing she had helped reignite that flame in him, stopped him from giving up and put the same spark in his eyes he had when they’ve first met and she let him into Bosworth’s office and he leaned on her desk, close to her, with a confident, attractive air. Yes, she wanted to have this man, selfishly. Her Joe. “For selfish reasons, I did not want to be around either of my parents when they were sick.”

“Yet you cared in an exemplary matter for both,” the man of her dreams challenged. 

“What do you want to do?” 

“The right thing,” Joe answered without hesitation. 

“Which is?” Debbie frowned, not sure what his thought processes could’ve led him to. Chances were it could be anything at this point.

“We need to speed up setting up the camera sales and simply presume it will take off as expected after I have to leave. I still feel it wouldn’t be fair to take over my father’s business if all I can show up is past failure, so I want to get the venture past a point, but there’s not much time for pondering and reconsidering. When it comes right down to it and a decision needs to be made, I don’t think I would look back and happily live with the fact I’ve given him the cold shoulder at a moment like this.”

Debbie could only agree, relieved his choice was what she would’ve advised herself, but she knew it was something he had to make up his mind about himself. “He wants you to take over?” She started. It wasn’t a conversation the brunette had been aware of. “At IBM?” She asked confused. Certainly, the older Macmillan ran the company, but it wasn’t like he owned it or if his position on the board was heritable. 

Joe groaned at that, outwardly this time. “No.” There were some people there he never cared to meet again. “The mobile phone company he had invested quite a lot of the money he had earned at IBM. That is what made my mind up. I had found out he had listened to me, to my idea, when it told him it will be the future, people being contactable where ever they are. Macmillan and Son, Utilities. It will be mine and it’s worth a few million,” he shared fervently. If it was based on his idea, he could take pride in it. He didn’t establish it himself, but it was the second best he could ever achieve. 

“You’re telling me we’re rich?” Debbie couldn’t keep the smile off her face, might as she have tried for the old man’s sake. 

“I’m telling you that you can get that wedding dress you had your eyes on, on Sixth Avenue. I want to do it right this time, give my bride everything they deserve.”

Debbie turned quickly, “It just occurred to me. Shouldn’t we do this you know, before it’s too late for him to be there?”

It took a few moments for Joe to answer. It’s not like it has been easy to come round to the idea of his father as close family again. “He would like that,” the newly reinstated entrepreneur agreed. After all, he was holding her hand and could trust her with his life. What could go wrong?

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the maybe over the top fairy tale ending. I really wanted to give Joe a convincing happy end.


End file.
